


This is the end

by Atomiclovekitten



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I consider everyone a major character and there are a lot of dead folks in here, I tried so fucking hard on this, Kinda gory? like zombie gory, M/M, and I hope you like it, but if you don't that's okay too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atomiclovekitten/pseuds/Atomiclovekitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had to do what was best for the people who were with him. The ones that were too tired to try to survive on their own. They just needed to follow someone.  In the beginning, Enjolras had insisted that everyone in the party was an equal contributing member and that there was no leader. As the time had progressed however and all the losses the party had suffered, everyone else gave up and placed all their faith in Enjolras to steer them to safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nautilics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilics/gifts).



> So this is going to be a two chapter fic. You're going to get one Chapter on the 22nd when it's revealed and you'll get the second before christmas. It's been a fucking hectic two weeks at work and I haven't had any inspiration to write, so some of this might seem a bit rushed. I hope it's okay and you at least kind of like it. If you don't, that's okay as well. Sometimes I fail at life.

It wasn’t as if he had a choice. No one had a choice in this world. Courfeyrac shamelessly let the tears fall from his eyes as he held Jehan’s bloody body close.

“Please, Courf. I need you to do this,” Jehan was barely able to even whisper to Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac just shook his head violently no, and held Jehan as close as he could.

“Jehan, I can’t do this. I can’t. You can’t leave me. I need you. You promised me you wouldn’t leave. I can’t…” Courfeyrac’s voice gained more desperation the longer he went on, his words becoming nothing more than sobs. His tears were dropping onto Jehan’s face, streaking a clear path through the blood and grime on his cheek. Nothing could stop this and Courfeyrac knew that. He felt the convulsions start and tightened his grip on the smaller man. Courfeyrac let out a wail of frustration and pain as Jehan’s convulsions grew worse. Courfeyrac didn’t know what to do once the convulsions stopped so he just stilled completely, not ready to face what was coming.

Enjolras, who had been quietly standing a few feet away the entire time jumped into action the moment the convulsions stopped. He grabbed Courfeyrac’s shoulder and tugged hard enough to pull the dark haired man away from the body just in time to see Jehan, no he wasn’t Jehan anymore, open his eyes again. The white film that covered them was no longer a shock to see, but it still hurt to know it was someone that you were trying your hardest to keep safe. He pulled his gun from his holster and pointed it at the corpse. The corpse looked at him, no expression as it bared its teeth and opened its mouth to snap at Enjolras. Without hesitation, Enjolras pulled the trigger.

Enjolras was staring out of the window from the second floor of the house that they had managed to barricade and make safe enough to use as a camp until the winter months set in. He was watching them, the walkers, the creatures that had once been human beings. They just shuffled along aimlessly, turning at the slightest sound, but soon forgetting about it and return to wandering. It had been almost a year since the modern world had gone to hell. A year since he lost his best friend to the creatures he was looking at now. Killing his friends had ceased to be difficult after Combeferre had been bitten. Enjolras remembered that quite well, pulling the brown haired man back from the creature, but not before the damn thing ripped out his throat. He was frantic and scared and he tried to stop the bleeding. It was before anyone understood that the virus was passed through bites and bodily fluids. Because no one understood fully what was going on at that time, Enjolras had almost lost his own life that day. In a twist of fate, he did the only thing he could think of and shot Combeferre point blank in the skull.

The quiet sobs coming from the garden pulled Enjolras out of his memories. It was Courfeyrac who had started to cry again. No one made any mention of it. All of them lost the ones they loved. Éponine had lost Combeferre during the initial panic. Feuilly had lost Bahorel a little over three months ago when Bahorel had sacrificed himself to save Feuilly. Marius had been separated from Cosette, but wouldn’t give up on the hope that she may still have been alive. Joly, poor Joly, had lost not only Bossuet, but Musichetta as well when the camp they had made had been overrun by a horde of the undead. Enjolras had lost Grantaire. Well, they had been separated, but he had not been able to keep the optimism that Marius had and quickly gave up on his hope that he would ever find Grantaire again.

Enjolras watched as Feuilly and Marius helped Courfeyrac throw Jehan’s blanket covered body into the fire that had been made for this very reason. After letting go for the last time Courfeyrac broke down into hysterics and everyone came to hug him and share his sorrow. It may have gotten easier to kill the creatures that their friends had become, but Enjolras still couldn’t get over how fucking hard it was to lay their friend’s body in the fire.  He should be down there, but instead he was in this room watching from out of the window under the pretense that he was searching for a way out of the city. It really wasn’t a lie, he had been doing just that and then he got caught up in his own thoughts. He had been searching for a route, but given that the map he had only had the safe zones from a year ago and the fact that there was no signal on the handheld radio he carried with him, he was at a loss of which settlements had failed and which ones were thriving.  He had to do what was best for the people who were with him. The ones that were too tired to try to survive on their own. They just needed to follow someone.  In the beginning, Enjolras had insisted that everyone in the party was an equal contributing member and that there was no leader. As the time had progressed however and all the losses the party had suffered, everyone else gave up and placed all their faith in Enjolras to steer them to safety. Enjolras didn’t mind, he was actually rather prepared for it, being a natural born leader and all. He just never thought that he would have to lead people outside of the revolution.

Looking over the maps again he noticed that there was a town just over ten miles west of where they were, a three hour walk and safest to make during the day. Enjolras looked around the small stockpile that was in the room and sighed at the realization that a supply run would be better sooner than later. He grabbed his maps and made his way through the house to discuss a supply run with the others.

“Would anyone be willing to go?” Enjolras’ question goes unanswered as everyone just looks around the room at anything other than Enjolras. No one speaks up and Enjolras nods his head in acknowledgement of the silent plea to _please do not send anyone away, not after what just happened._

“That’s alright. I’ll go. That means you’re in charge Éponine. Keep an eye on the perimeter and keep everyone safe,” Enjolras says as he begins to grab some of the supplies he’ll be taking with him. He grabs an empty bag and swings it over his shoulder and grabs one of the pistols that they have in the weapons stash. Putting the fire arm in his hip holster and a machete fastened to his belt, Enjolras turns to Éponine and shows her his wrist in a silent command.

_Let’s sync our watches._

Éponine nods and they both set their times to the same minute before Enjolras is out the door with a call of “should be back in about six and a half- seven hours. Keep a look out for me since I’ll be back this way around night fall.”

Getting out was easy enough. Distract the walkers. Get away as quickly as possible. Be vigilant. Enjolras was at the fence about to toss a brick to distract the walkers when a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a hug. It was Courfeyrac who had grabbed him and cried into his shoulder begging him not to go, saying that he couldn’t lose him as well. Enjolras pulled himself out of Courf’s grip and cupped his face with both hands, making him look at him.

“Courf, it will be okay. I will come back to you. I need to go now. I need to get supplies for everyone. You want everyone to be healthy right?” He waits for a nod. He goes on when he receives one, “then the only way we can all stay healthy is for me to get more food and any medicines that we’re low on.”

Enjolras calls Marius over to console Courfeyrac as he makes his way over the fence. Once over, he makes a beeline west towards the town his maps say should be there.

Sticking to back roads and woods, Enjolras listens intently for the occasional walker as he keeps his right hand on the machete that he found back when Combeferre was still alive. Combeferre. Even thinking about him still brought back bad memories of that day. It was Grantaire who helped him through that mess. Grantaire, who was the love of his life and he still regrets that it took the world to collectively end before realizing that. He wants to believe that Grantaire has survived and sometimes, when he’s sleeping, he’ll dream that Grantaire has been there the whole time holding him. Sometimes it’s those thoughts and memories of dreams that are the only thing keeping Enjolras going.

The city is quiet and it’s strange not to see too many walkers on the street. He locates the drug store and surveys the surrounding area. Staying low and as quietly as possible, Enjolras moves from car to car to make his way to the drug store. Enjolras feels a bit more safe once inside and begins to find anything that isn’t expired or things they’re low on.

 Enjolras’ mind is spinning with thoughts of friends long since gone and the things that he never got to say to Grantaire, that he doesn’t hear the walker that had been in the store the entire time. The minute he notices the creature, it’s almost too late, the damned thing is on him almost close enough to bite. Enjolras holds his arms out in front of him to fend the creature off when an arrow shoots through a broken window and straight through the walkers head. Enjolras pushes the creature away from him and scrambles back towards the shelving unit behind him and pulls the machete from his belt getting ready to attack whoever is coming for him.

“Show yourself. I won’t hurt you.” Enjolras entire body freezes as he begins racking his brain trying to remember where he’s heard that voice before.  Placing the machete back in his belt, he begins to come slowly out from behind the shelving unit that he had taken shelter behind.  He is greeted by the sight of a man about 5’5, his face half hidden by the scarf around his nose and mouth, but he could never forget that unruly black hair. It was Grantaire.

“Mon Dieu,” the black haired man whispered as he just stared at the blonde in front of him as if he were a ghost.

 

 


End file.
